Choking PSA

No, this post isn’t a primer on how to choke someone who’s annoying you, though I know we all have someone we’d like to try that maneuver on.  It’s a reminder that life isn’t predictable, things happen fast, and if you’re not prepared, you’re screwed.

First and foremost, before you even read this post, if you don’t know basic First Aid and CPR, go read this:  Life Saving Basics

When you’re done, come back and read my post, then go enroll in the next class you’re able to attend.  You may never, ever need to use these skills, but if you’re called upon to save someone’s life and you don’t have them, you will always regret it.

 

I was twelve when I got my first Red Cross First Aid and CPR certifications.  I went to summer camp where I tested out of the swimming classes they offered.  So, instead, they put me into lifeguard training classes with some of the older kids. 

I’ve mostly kept my certifications up to date throughout the years. Between having young kids, and working in a few different nursing homes, I’ve either needed them to be current, or it just seemed like a really good idea.  Let’s face it, if you’re a parent, you know the importance of first aid. As a mom or dad you need to know when a kiss and a band-aid will do, or when to run to the ER for stitches. You should know how to preserve a tooth that’s been knocked out, or an arm that’s been lopped off.  Last but not least, you absolutely have to know how to save your child’s life with CPR or the Heimlich, while you pray to God you’ll never have to.

Not too long ago a friend of mine had a choking emergency with one of her kids.  Her child began to choke at the dinner table, panicked and ran from the room.  She was lucky enough that someone realized what was happening, and she survived the experience frightened but ok.  My friend used the opportunity to tell all of us to make sure our kids knew what to do in a choking emergency: to remain calm, and find an adult.

Never have I ever been so thankful for my training, and a little bit of friendly advice than I am today.

This morning I woke up Jenna and we went about our normal routine.  She got some cereal to eat for breakfast, and I stumbled into the office to check my email and other messages with a cup of coffee to keep me company.  Neither she nor I even resemble human in the morning, so to avoid any undue stress or confrontations, we have a non-verbal agreement to leave each other alone for about twenty minutes while we wake up. 

This morning was no different than any other, except that Jenna had started nursing a cold over the weekend, so I listened to her cough and snuffle, and wondered if she was going to be able to make it through a day at school without being sent home.  Then I heard her footsteps behind me…

I turned to find her clutching her chest, eyes wild, and NOT BREATHING!

“Are you choking?” I asked, and she nodded.

“Can you breathe at all?” I asked, while my heart started to pound.  She shook her head no.

I was already on my feet, though I don’t remember getting up.  I grabbed her, turned her around, and started to perform the Heimlich.

Time slowed, or my sluggish brain sped up, and I could almost see the first aid manual in front of me as I remembered what to do.  I felt along her ribcage to find the base of her sternum, placed two fingers from my right hand under it, and my left fist below them.  Please don’t let me break her ribs, I prayed silently. Then I grabbed the fist with with my other hand, and gave two sharp quick pulls in and up against her diaphragm, just as I’d been taught.

I paused a moment, listening to hear if she was moving any air, trying to remember where the cordless phone was, and at what point I was supposed to call 911 if I couldn’t get her to breathe.  She was still choking and I had a instant of despair thinking it wasn’t going to work, it had been too long since I’d taken a class, my technique was probably all wrong.

Another pull and a pause; still nothing.  One more; please breathe baby. Mommy will buy you a pony if you want, just as long as I don’t have to watch you die today.

One more quick pull, and the sweet sound of coughing and gagging filled my ears.  I’ve never been so happy to hear my child retch before.

We collapsed into a nearby chair, and I held her while we both cried.  My hands started to shake as I stroked her hair and told her how proud I was that she did exactly the right things, even though I knew how scared she must have been.

I calmed her down, bundled her up on the couch with a blanket, and went upstairs, under the pretense of getting dressed, to have a quiet nervous break down.

People tend to think that because of my anxiety disorder I’m prone to panic in an emergency. It’s actually just the opposite. I do quite well under pressure, I’m not afraid of blood, and I’m well trained. It’s not until afterwards that I start to feel sick and panicky.

Things could have easily turned out differently this morning.  If my friend hadn’t told me to talk to my kids about what to do in just that circumstance, Jenna could have choked to death in the other room, unable to call for help, with me sitting just a few feet away.  If I hadn’t taken several first aid classes over the years, I may not have known the proper way to apply the Heimlich Maneuver.  I could have done it incorrectly and crushed her ribcage or punctured a lung trying to save her life.

We do a lot of things for our kids, little things, big things, silly things and annoying things.  Today do the most important thing for them that you may never actually need.  Learn how to save their life, and teach them how to safe themselves. 

Talk to your kids, tell them that if they should ever start to choke, to try and remain calm, find an adult, and signal them by placing their hands to their throats in the universal choking gesture.

As an adult, please sign up for a Red Cross life saving course; take one for the first time, or just take a refresher.  There is not a single more important thing you can do for the people you love.

Hugs,